


Call Out My Name

by nihilistshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bets & Wagers, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Bottom Shiro Week 2019, Edging, Fingerfucking, M/M, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Trans Male Character, Wall Sex, shance, trans shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: Lance was a beautiful, enigmatic, rich kid. The spoiled twenty-something had the world at his fingertips. He was the life of the party, loud and buoyant. Lance was the very definition of the word 'extra.’ And Shiro was a washed-up, straight-laced military agent with no family and no home to speak of, working as a personal security detail to pay the bills.They couldn't be more different. Which was why Shiro absolutely hated the fact that he was in love with Lance.





	Call Out My Name

**Author's Note:**

> For Bottom Shiro Week!!! How fun! 
> 
> This is such a random ass AU, but I hope y'all enjoy!! Also, I've decided to just name some fics after the song I'm listening to when I write. This is from the Weekend ;)

Shiro pushed his way through the crush of sweaty bodies, the thumping bass vibrating beneath his skin. He found the club scene repulsive, but his client–a wealthy heir to an international shipping company–seemed to find it entertaining. In fact, when Lance discovered Shiro's dislike for his idea of nightlife it seemed to spur him to plan more parties and club appearances. 

Lance was a beautiful, enigmatic, rich kid. The spoiled twenty-something had the world at his fingertips. He was the life of the party, loud and buoyant. Lance was the very definition of the word 'extra.’ And Shiro was a washed-up, straight-laced military agent with no family and no home to speak of, working as a personal security detail to pay the bills.

They couldn't be more different. Which was why Shiro absolutely hated the fact that he was in love with Lance.

The music died down as Shiro made his way through the back hallway, past a surly looking bouncer, and up a corkscrew staircase—his destination, one of the luxury VIP suites. The past three months of his contracted position with Lance had been a learning experience on the life of the ultra-wealthy. It turned Shiro’s stomach to see Lance throw away money when he’d grown up shopping at second-hand stores with his mom for school clothes.

He should hate Lance. His arrogant nature and life of wanton excess certainly made the job difficult. But he’d also witnessed Lance in tender moments when it was just the two of them. Lance going out of his way to play with his little brothers and sisters. Lance paying the vet bill for his maid’s puppy who ate a bag of M&M’s. Lance reading books about space and astronomy in the sun–something he wouldn’t be caught dead doing on Instagram or when his rotten friends were around.

Shiro pushed open the last door on the right and found Lance sitting on a sofa, his back to the wall. In front of him three people were making out and grinding on each other, the music from the dancefloor below pumped into the suite. Beyond them was an entire wall made of two-way mirror that looked out over the crowd.

Seeing that cocky fucker sitting down, palming himself through his pants as three incredibly attractive people put on a show for him snapped something inside Shiro. He was fucking done.

Lance still didn’t see that Shiro was there, so he walked to the touchscreen controls and muted the music.

“Get out,” Shiro barked, looking pointedly at the half-naked trio. “Now!”

Lance turned to look back over the couch, his face in shock. He’d never heard Shiro peep a complaint, let alone shout at strangers. The three people he’d met downstairs collected their things and scurried out of the room, the door slamming shut behind them.

“What the fuck, Shiro?”

“I quit.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I fucking quit.”

Shiro rounded to the front of the couch and threw his earpiece onto the low table in front of Lance. It clinked against a half-empty bottle of Crystal.

“I can’t deal with this shit anymore. You live like a fucking heathen.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with you? If you don’t like my lifestyle just look the other way.”

“I can’t,” Shiro said, hoping the tone he injected in those two small words conveyed everything he left unsaid.

_ I can’t watch you with other people. _

_ I can’t be this close to you and not touch you. _

“Shiro.”

Lance stepped around the coffee table to stand in front of him.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Shiro didn’t say anything but dropped his eyes before he could get a good look at Lance and lose his nerve. The man was half-naked, and his body was cut with lean muscles that Shiro had admired on more than one afternoon by the pool at Lance’s condo.

“Stay with me.” Lance brushed Shiro’s arm with feather-light fingertips and he shivered.

“What are you doing?” he asked, taking a step away from Lance, the mass of movement on the floor catching his gaze. The bodies moved as if in a trance, and for a minute, nothing from the last three months seemed real.

“Something I’ve wanted to do since I first interviewed you,” Lance said, following Shiro easily. He grinned, bright and easy and charming. “You don’t work for me anymore, right?”

Shiro’s jaw ticked.

“Do you think with anything other than your dick? Or do you just cast a wide net because it’s so hard for you to land a catch?”

Shiro turned to leave, ready to walk away from the superfluous bubble that encompassed everything Lance McClain.

“Oh, please,” Lance said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe if you took that stick out of your ass and took a dick instead, you’d be less of an uptight jackass.

Shiro knew he should walk out the door. That he shouldn’t rise to the bait. But he couldn’t let it go.

“You really think so, don’t you? You’re so fucking full of yourself. Not everybody wants a fuck buddy. Some of us live in the real world. Not some drunken orgy where there aren’t any consequences. You can be such a decent human and you spend your time like...like…”

He swallowed thickly. “ _ This _ .” Shiro gestured to Lance, taking special offense to his ornate gold belly ring.

“But you do,” Lance said with a devilish grin. “Want me, I mean.”

Lance stepped closer. He was shorter than Shiro and had a thinner frame, but he carried himself with an aura of authority. Shiro thought it made him look like a cocky asshole, and he hated that he was into it.

Lance’s hand slid up his neck and he bit back a moan. It had been weeks since he’d gotten laid and even longer since he began fantasizing about Lance. His nostrils flared, eyes boring down into Lance’s sure gaze. He wanted to deny it, but Lance had him pegged.

Shiro wasn’t one to give up without a fight.

“That’s why it could never work, baby,” he said, gripping Lance’s wrist. He drew the knuckle of his index finger down Lance’s cheek and was rewarded when that confident smirk cracked, if only for a moment. “You only ever think of yourself.”

Shiro had nothing left to lose, or so he told himself as his fingers locked into Lance’s short hair. There was a split second of silence where he teetered on the edge but then he was kissing Lance firmly on the lips. 

Maybe it was to end three months of sexual tension. Maybe it was to get that cocky fucking smirk off of his face for once and for all. Either way, the space between them shrank down to nothing as Shiro descended upon him, hungry and unforgiving.

They melted against each other until Shiro pulled back and left them both panting.  Lance’s tight grip on his jacket fell away as Shiro loosened his grip and stepped back. 

“I’m not looking for a fuck buddy,” Shiro repeated.

“I don’t want a fuck buddy.”

One of Shiro’s winged brows arched in response.

“I know that I hit on everything. That part is painfully accurate. But it’s not like I could have asked you out anyway. You worked for me.”

Lance gave Shiro a pointed look, as if to say,  _ And believe me I wanted to. _

“Lance, please just.. Drop it, okay? We both know you can’t do this.”

“Me?” Lance asked, affronted. “I can’t do this?” His hands clenched in tight fists. “I can do this but you’re too much of chicken shit to even try.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “I’m not scared.”

“Okay, then. Prove it. How about a bet?” Lance asked.

Shiro laughed. “What the fuck are you talking about, Lance?”

“I bet I can have you begging for my cock,” Lance said, crowding Shiro once more, but not touching him. “If I win, you have to give me a chance. If not, at least you’ll never have to wonder if we could be good together.”

Shiro snorted, the competitive streak in him chomping at the bit to put Lance in his place. The heat zinging up his thighs didn’t hurt either.

“Begging? I bet you can’t make me say anything at all.”

“Bold statement, Mr. Shirogane,” Lance said, dragging a single finger up Shiro’s chest. “But we both know I always get what I want.”

Lance pulled Shiro down into a kiss that he felt all the way down to his toes, which curled inside the tight black shoes he wore. Lance shrugged the jacket from his shoulders and Shiro let it fall to the floor, exposing the twin pistols he carried on each side, the leather holster snug around his wide frame.

“Have you ever fucked with the guns on?” Lance asked between kisses he planted along Shiro’s neck and jaw.

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Calm down. I was just asking.”

There was a brief moment while Shiro was watching Lance walk toward him. Half-naked.  Gold belly ring winking in the strobing club lights.

Was actually going to go through with this?

“Go to the wall and put your hands on the glass,” Lance said.

He was absolutely going through with it.

Lance slipped away to lock the door while Shiro stripped off his guns and set them on the coffee table, then did as Lance asked, needles of anticipation and determination pricking beneath his skin.

The glass was thick and cool, the dark tint shadowing the bodies that moved on the dancefloor below. If he hadn’t seen the reflective surface in action when he was down among the masses, he might not trust that it worked.

Still, when Lance came up behind him he jumped a little, his hands running down Shiro’s torso and landing on his waistband.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.” Lance’s voice was like silk and it tickled the sensitive skin beneath Shiro’s ear. “And I can't wait to hear you beg for it.”

He pulled Shiro’s shirt free, darting his hands beneath the white fabric to touch the ridges of his stomach.

“Step back a little,” Lance said, curling around his body to wedge between Shiro and the glass.

Shiro made room for Lance, his hooded stare tracking Lance's movements as he undid Shiro’s belt and zipper. Lance pushed down his briefs and pants and only when they were around Shiro's ankles did reality set in. He was actually going to fuck Lance in a club, with hundreds of people on the other side of this see-through wall.

He let out a huff of laughter and Lance gave him a questioning look.

“I'm sorry,” Shiro said. “This is all just kinda hard to believe.”

“Believe it,” Lance said with a feline grin. “But you said I couldn’t make you talk at all. I’m starting the clock now, so keep it quiet or  _ I _ win.”

Then his hands and mouth descended on Shiro's front, exploring and teasing and altogether divine. His tongue found Shiro's cock and swirled around it, his fingers holding Shiro open for better access. The feel of Lance's greedy lips moving against him and the sight of him on his knees, eager and wanton, did something to Shiro's insides.

How many times had he imagined fucking that perfect mouth?

The dim glow of the club's magenta lights pulsed through the window, throwing shadows across Lance's face and reflecting his open stare as he gazed up Shiro's body. Lance shifted and swiped his tongue across Shiro's entrance. His hips bucked forward, his eyes drifting shut as Lance worked him.

“You taste so good,” Lance murmured, nipping Shiro's inner thighs between strokes of his tongue. “I wondered what you'd taste like.”

Shiro quivered, pulling his lips between his teeth to keep quiet. His strategy was to stay silent. He knew if he opened his mouth he would say  _ something _ . And the satisfaction of winning over Lance was almost headier than the feel of his mouth on Shiro's cock.

Lance eased a finger into Shiro's entrance and delicious heat curled in his belly. Lance was slow, content to take his time exploring Shiro’s body. His eyes never left Shiro, looking for any visual clues that Shiro gave. Shiro’s palm was sweating against the glass as it became increasingly difficult to hold himself firm as Lance took him apart.

Soon one finger became two, Lance’s tongue more aggressive against Shiro’s erection. Shiro’s knees locked, his hips stilling as Lance began moving in and out of him in earnest, his head bobbing between Shiro’s thighs and eliciting lewd noises that echoed in the absence of the clubs music. Shiro could feel the bass through the glass, could hear the thrum of the song, but it was nothing compared to the sound of Lance sucking him down, a third finger pressing in.

Shiro’s mouth fell open, a gasp crawling up his throat. He caught it in time, snapping his jaw shut and gritting his teeth together.

He didn’t know how long he stood frozen, clamping down on every instinct that surfaced in response to the molten heat spreading in his belly. His muscles began spasming, his body tensing. Lance responded by picking up the pace, driving into him as he drooled around Shiro’s cock. Lance loved his body with the same reckless decadence he used in all other aspects in life.

Shiro reached a hand down to Lance’s hair, but the other man swatted him away.

“No touching.”

Shiro thought of anything and everything to keep himself from coming, his eyes screwed shut as he hissed through his teeth. It felt like an eternity before Lance pulled his mouth away, a string of saliva stretching until it broke and Lance wiped it away with the back of his hand.

“I can’t give it to you if you don’t ask me for it,” he said, fingers still working Shiro open.

Shiro blinked, at first only seeing the blur of the crowd before his own reflection sharpened in the dark glass. His hair was disheveled, the white dress shirt wrinkled, the top of Lance’s head hitting just above his navel.

A response was on the tip of his tongue, but Shiro bit it back.

“Alright,” Lance said. “If that’s how you wanna play it.”

He slipped his fingers from Shiro’s front, letting them drift along his inner thigh and deposit wet heat there. Lance stood, stretching his arms high above his head and Shiro took the opportunity to kick off his pants.

“I think we need to get rid of this,” Lance said, tugging at Shiro’s shirt. He unbuttoned it and took his time nibbling bruises into each inch of Shiro’s skin exposed.

When the fabric was finally tossed to the floor, Lance circled to Shiro’s backside, stroking his ass and laying kisses between his shoulders.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I really did want you that first day.” Lance chuckled. His hand slipped between Shiro’s cheeks. “I almost didn’t give you the job. But damn, I wanted to spend more time with you.”

Lance gripped Shiro’s ass and held him open, Shiro’s hands skidding against the window. The cool air made him shiver and a moment later Lance’s tongue flicked against his asshole.

“ _ Nnnnggg! _ ”

Shiro barely kept himself from crying out.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Lance said and proceeded to show Shiro’s ass the same attention to detail that he’d used on his front.

Shiro pushed back against him, seeking more pressure from Lance’s mouth as he ate him open. He could only see the undulating crush of dancers and they seemed like they were moving underwater, his focus narrowing on the pleasure coursing through his system. He wanted more, and when Lance pressed in a single digit, a tremor ran up Shiro’s spine. He tried to rock his hips quicker, pull Lance in deeper, but Lance wasn’t having it. He was meticulous and languid and it drove Shiro to madness.

His head dropped to his chest and his breath left him in a huff. It was excruciating to wait for Lance to go deeper, to add another finger. Shiro wanted to urge him on. Wanted to ask what the hell was taking so long.

But he couldn’t. He refused to break.

So he let Lance ravage him. Let him take his sweet time adding a second finger, muscles tightening deliciously as Lance scissored them apart to stretch Shiro wide. His thighs shook, sweat beading along his spine. Lance’s hand moved faster, his mouth nipping and sucking at Shiro’s ass to leave behind a blossoming trail of pink marks.

Shiro felt the shift, his body tensing, searching for release. Lance drove him on, and for a moment, Shiro was right on the edge.

Then Lance stilled, and Shiro clamped his mouth shut to muffle the grunt of frustration that tore through him. He rubbed his thighs together seeking friction and Lance’s hand gripped one hip to keep him in place.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

Lance began again, starting slow and increasing his pace until Shiro was strung taut like a bow, ready to snap. And each time Shiro gained leverage toward his climax, Lance eased back, beginning a cycle of denial that was equal parts ecstasy and exasperation.

And between his ministrations, Lance made sure to tell Shiro everything that was on his mind.  _ You look so good like this. So sexy. You’re taking my fingers so well. I want to see you take my cock. _

Shiro wasn’t sure how long the sweet torture went on. He lost count at six.

Shiro thought it couldn’t get any worse. Thought that somehow he could still pull out a win. But then Lance slipped his thumbs into his hole. He pulled against the tight ring of muscle to hold Shiro open and fucked him with his tongue.

The pull between ultimate bliss and not-quite-enough broke Shiro’s silence.

“Fuck! Lance!”

Lance didn’t ease up, just worked him at his steady pace, humming contentedly.

“Please,” Shiro begged. “Please fuck me. You have to– _ ahh! Lance! _ ”

Lance stood and left him panting against the wall, but returned a moment later with lube and a condom. He quickly readied himself and nudged against Shiro’s hole.

“Hey,” Lance said. “Look at me.”

Shiro turned back to look over his shoulder, heat rolling off him in waves. He craned his neck to make eye contact with Lance and could just see Lance’s cock from the corner of his eye when he glanced down.

“Look at me,” Lance repeated and Shiro’s gaze snapped back up to meet his.

“I win.”

Lance slammed into him, burying himself to the hilt in one thrust.

“ _ Lance! _ ”

“Oh, fuck.” Lance groaned, pulling back to hammer into him again.

They exchanged no more words, as Lance fucked him against the wall, their bodies falling into a desperate rhythm. Shiro’s gaze returning forward as he held himself up against Lance’s brutal thrusts, but the club was a million miles away. There was only Lance. Only the fiery pit in his stomach that seemed fit to burst.

Pleasure and pain snaked around the base of his spine, constricting with each passing stroke from Lance’s cock. Lance slapped his ass and he moaned, a wanton sound that made his body stiffen beneath a wave of desire.

“Yes! Oh, fuck!”

Shiro held on for as long as he could, his body bent at almost ninety degrees as his hands fought for purchase against the slick mirror.

Lance grunted.

“Come for me.” He pounded into Shiro, their skin slapping together. “Come for me, Takashi.”

Shiro was gone, cast above a scorching canyon of sensation that curled his toes and arched his back, his head flung back as he fell through a blinding river of delirious rapture.

_ “Aahhhhnnnghhh!” _

Lance kept his pace, rutting against Shiro a few moments more until he found his own release, his hips stuttering as he came deep within Shiro’s ass. 

They didn’t move, just heaved against each other, the party below a muffled sea of reality that couldn’t touch them. Eventually, after their tremors eased, Lance slipped from him, and Shiro felt his knees buckle.

Lance slung an arm around his middle and helped Shiro to the private bathroom attached to the VIP suite. They cleaned up the mess together, delicate hands wiping away the sticky aftermath of their coupling. It was tender in a way Shiro did not expect. Lance lead him back out to the main room, handing him his boxers and guiding him to the couch.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” Lance murmured as he sank down next to him, unable to meet Shiro’s gaze.

“You didn’t. That was amazing.”

Lance smiled, but it wasn’t the cocky smirk. It was a small, proud grin that pinched a corner of Shiro’s heart.

“Amazing, huh?”

Shiro rolled his eyes.

“Yep. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Lance laughed.

“And for a minute there I didn’t think I’d have me in you.”

“Oh my god.”

“You still have to go out with me.”

Shiro feigned annoyance, swatting Lance away when he tried to put an arm around Shiro. He caved, though, when Lance snatched up his hand and turned it, kissing his palm. Shiro smiled.

“I should really quit my job more often.”

**Author's Note:**

> "I win." ;;;;;;;;;;;)
> 
> Thank you to Brit, Shanny, and Sami for their help with this and Brit for beta-ing!!! GO TIDDY SQUADDDD
> 
> Leave a note if you enjoyed it!
> 
> Find my personal dumpster fire on Twitter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ [@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro)


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